A rusty, frail chair in that perfect, little spot overlooking the sea. The sound of the wind and the waves crashing. The dark sky. And nothing else.

This is her favorite spot. And nothing else.

This is her spot. And nothing else.

Here, she dreams about the stars and how they could make her wishes come true. She closes her eyes, concentrates on the feeling she gets from her favorite spot. And nothing else.

Here, all her heartache is gone; vanished in an instant. Here, she turns back into the girl who believes. The boy, who then, broke her heart, turns into that perfect boy again. Their memories, that would usually give her nothing but nightmares and trauma, turn into the perfect fairytale again. And nothing else.

There is no ‘the end’ in her spot. The story went on chapter after chapter.

Here, she could delete all the bad things in her life. The spot was her ‘recycle bin’. All the heartache and heartbreaks would be gone in just one click.

Here, there is a ‘rewind’. Back into the times when he’d hold her tight like there was no tomorrow. When he’d just look into her eyes for the longest time and when she’d ask “why?”, he’d keep silent and then he’d say “it’s you. And nothing else.”

Here, there is a 'saved' button. It goes back into the moment when he’d surprise her at her porch, one February morning with the biggest sign that says: “will you be my valentine?”. It goes back into the moment when he’d carry her home because her feet hurt from those 4-inch stilettos she had on at the night of their prom. It goes back into the moment when it was just them. And nothing else.

It goes back into the moment when he’d point to a dull corner (resembling that of an ugly wedding centerpiece), just overlooking the sea. It goes back into the moment when he’d lead her there. To the dull and uninviting spot.

It had nothing but a rusty, frail chair placed in a spot where it overlooked the sea. The sound of the wind and the waves crashing. The dark sky. And nothing else.